Those who smile in the face of danger
by Littera
Summary: Once James Norrington thought he loved. This is the tale of his love and her fate, and of what happens when the years go by. Norrington/OC and Jack/OC
1. 1 The Lady and the Lieutenant

Disclamier: I own my bicycle, three pairs of red shoes and an antique writing desk. Not Pirates of the Caribbean though.

**Chapter one: the Lady and the Lieutenant**

**"It was many and many a year ago,**

**In a kingdom by the seas,**

**That a maiden there lived whom you may know,**

**By the name of Annabel Lee; - **

**And this maiden she lived with no other thought**

**Than to love and be loved by me."**

**Annabel Lee, by Edgar Allan Poe**

Lieutenant James Norrington was most pleased. His personal life, and foremost his career was proceeding just as he had hoped. And planned, for all that. He had only just turned twenty-five, and therefore both his promotion to lieutenant and his engagement to a Lady, was most promising.

As he watched his fiancée pour a cup of tea for him under the daunting eye of her aunt, he decided that he was very pleased with his choice. Young miss Jennifer Hawk was a simple girl, the only child of an impoverished country squire, but Norrington deemed she had great potential. In time she would make the perfect wife for a naval officer.

He took the cup she offered him and their hands brushed ever so slightly. It made her blush and avert her eyes, which only pleased him further. A good girl of sound principles, not likely to go beyond what was decent.

–I trust your father is well, Miss Hawk?

– I thank you, very well.

They relapsed into silence, Norrington not being a man used to pleasant conversations nor pleasant company. He had returned to London and England with the exact purpose of finding himself a wife. His grandmother had long abandoned Worcestershire for the entertainments of London, and although he had only met her twice in his life, he relied on her judgment. His own father, dead since three years, had been a younger soon, leaving his home country to seek fame and fortune in the Caribbean. James had been born there, only returning to England a handful of times.

His grandmother was a capable woman, however, and had written him some time ago that she had found just the girl for him.

He had, although he trusted Lady Norrington, wanted to meet her in person. A marriage to a young man with such prospects as himself could only please the young lady in question, but he felt that it would do better to meet her face to face.

That had been four weeks ago, and he was proud that he had fixed his interest with her in such an expedient time. His duties in Port Royal beckoned, but he could not leave until he had organized her departure in a manner fitting for a future Mrs. Norrington.

Auntie Helen coughed loudly, which returned Norrington to the present. It brought a blush to his bride's cheeks and a cornered look to her eyes.

– W…when…when do you plan your return, lieutenant? She asked, stuttering slightly and glancing to her aunt for guidance. Auntie Helen beamed, so apparently she thought the subject appropriate.

– The Victorious leaves in a week's time, miss Hawk. Doctor Brandon needed time to collect his last potions and medicines.

Jennifer nodded as if she found this information of great interest.

– Is the governor very ill? She asked, knowing that her aunt would rebuke her if she didn't converse with the lieutenant.

– The local doctor doesn't give governor Welsh more than a year to live. That was why he sent me to bring a practitioner from England, Norrington answered. His tone was clipped, but he did not consider that. Business always made him sound efficient.

Jennifer Hawk did not know that, and as her dark eyes scanned his figure, she could not understand why he seemed so distant. The affair was not of long standing; their engagement had only been in the papers a week ago. But whereas she had loved him from the second she first laid eyes on him, she doubted that he felt anything like that for her. While he was a man of the world, a handsome officer with a bright future, she was just a little girl, barely out of the schoolroom and poor as a church mouse for that.

– How good of you to undertake such a voyage for sake of the governor, Aunt Helen put in with a smile. Her eyes berated Jennifer for not keeping the conversation flowing with the ease and grace she should.

Norrington eyed his fiancée, wondering absently in her negligence. While courting her, she had been a pleasant companion, so happy to listen to stories about his ship and the Caribbean seas he sailed her in. But since their engagement had been made known to the public, she often sat silent and thoughtful. He noted she was a little pale and the freckles around her nose stood out more clearly. Quite adorable really, he thought fleetingly, before turning his thoughts back to the affairs at hand.

– Really it was nothing, Miss Mason. My commission sometime means that I have to sail more for leisure than for warfare.

– But surely that must be preferable, lieutenant Norrington, Aunt Helen put in again. She was seriously considering to poke Jennifer or in some way make her aware of her rude behavior. But that would not quite

The reply made Norrington smile, and as he answered he quickly forgot miss Hawk's paleness.

– The sea is my mistress, madam, as long as I can sail it, I will go wherever duty takes me, he said with a heartfelt smile.

Opposite him, what Jennifer Hawk felt at his words was truly heartfelt, but it was not of a kind to make her smile. The sea was his mistress. The confession of a true sailor. He would never be content loving a silly little chit like herself. He only craved the salt seas and a boat to sail them on. He would never be that loving husband of her dreams. He had proposed only because he saw in her a pleasant wife. Not because he loved her. It was as she had feared for quite some time now.

– I...I think I hear papa downstairs, she burst out. I will bring him up to see you, lie…lieutenant.

And before her aunt or her fiancé had time to react she had left the room, pressing a hand to her eyes.

For a stunned moment, neither Miss Mason nor lieutenant Norrington spoke. Remembering again her paleness, Norrington wondered if she was sick.

– Is Miss Hawk well, Miss Mason? I have not done anything to offend her?

Helen Mason smiled thinly at him, moving as to pat his hand. She realized in time that he was not a man to be patted and settled for words.

– Do not worry, lieutenant Norrington. My niece has acquired a childish infatuation for you, that is all. In time she will prove to be a most comfortable wife, I am sure.

While she spoke Lord Hawk entered the room with his daughter in tow. Stunned James lifted his eyes to hers, but she didn't meet his gaze. She really was quite pale, her dark eyes and dark hair making her skin seem almost see-through.

– Lieutenant Norrington has been kind enough to pay us a visit, papa, Jennifer said, motioning to Norrington who had risen to pay his respects.

– How de'do, lieutenant, Hawks said. Always a pleasure to welcome you to our home.

–Thank you sir, Norrington said, his eyes still searching Jennifer's face.

A childish infatuation, her aunt said. Miss Hawk had never seen very childish to the lieutenant. Innocent and naïve perhaps, but not childish. Love? Had she come to love him in such a short time? How could that be? He did not hold himself to be an especially loveable man. He was a sailor, not a courtly gentleman.

– Will you stay for dinner, lieutenant? Mr Hark asked him, cutting short his train of thought.

–Thank you sir, but I shan't trespass on you anymore, Norrington answered.

His reply made Jennifer raise her eyes and give him a swift glance. What she saw in his face seemed to puzzle her and she lowered her gaze again.

–I assure you, we are only to glad of your company, lieutenant Norrington, Lord Hawk said. But then we will meet you at the assembly Saturday?

–Indeed, sir, it will be my great pleasure.

He bowed to Lord Hawk and Miss Mason and then stooped to kiss Miss Hawk's hand.

Then he left.

James Norrington, his mind in a whirl, steered his steps toward the docks. With the salt air of the distant ocean in his face, he felt he would be able to think clearly. He had never felt very comfortable in sitting rooms and parlors. He had spent to much time of his life at sea to readily sit still in soft chairs.

That Jennifer Hawk was in love with him came as a surprise to him. Not because he didn't believe it was possible, but because he hadn't considered her feelings, further than that she most be honored to be the subject of his proposal. With an uncomfortable feeling in his gut he realized he had not considered her at all. He knew nothing of her preferences, her interests; nothing.

'But I am not used to womenfolk', he told himself. 'I do not know how to treat them.'

Sadly, he knew he was lying to himself. He was well brought up, his mother had seen to that before his father took him to sea. He knew very well that, although his name and his fair prospects was enough to recommend himself to her father, he had done little to recommend himself to his future bride. Even if he knew not how to return her affection, it was his duty as an officer and gentleman not to let her know that was the case. She would be a pleasing wife; he had little reason to doubt it. He now realized that he had something of an equal responsibility to be pleasing husband.

With renewed determination he turned his steps back towards town. He had arrangements to dine with his grandmother later the same evening.


	2. On comfortable matches and the Caribbean

**Chapter two: On comfortable matches and hangings**

"**I will make you brooches and toys for your delight**

**Of birdsong at mornings and star-shine at night.**

**I will make a palace fit for you and me,**

**Of green days in forests and blue at sea."**

**The roadside fire, by Robert Louis Stevenson**

From when she had been first introduced to him Jennifer Hawk had been in awe of James Norrington. Indeed, from that first moment when she met his green eyes for the first, although swift glance she knew she would be his forever. The severe lines of his face had fascinated her in a way no man ever had. When he spoke, her belly filled with such amounts of fluttering butterflies that she found it hard to breath; only because of that manly, deep voice. The softness of his lips when he kissed her hand made every thought flee from her mind, in a way that was probably indecent. Even the way he walked impressed her, his back straight but his body swaying ever so slightly as if more used to the heaving of a boat than the firm ground.

Then everything had gone so quickly. He had stood up for a couple of dances with her, paid morning calls, and before she knew it her father had called her into his study to inform her of the lieutenant's proposal. She hadn't dared to believe it. That he would chose her, when London was so full of ladies more beautiful and experienced. Jennifer had neither great beauty nor great fortune. She was seventeen years old and although she knew how to play and sing, speak French with a decent accent and dance, she had no knowledge of the housewifely things that would be necessary for an officer's wife. But even so, for a few days she allowed herself to dream. Dream of a life with him on the exotic islands on the other side of the ocean. A house that would be theirs, of sunny days and love. Always love.

But this morning it had become painfully clear to her, that he was looking for a dutiful wife, not a companion. It broke her heart that she could love him so, after knowing him for so short a time, but that he saw nothing in her to entice him to any deeper feeling towards her.

Preparing for the assembly on the Saturday afternoon, she felt no real want to attend. She had to, she knew, but the prospect of being near lieutenant Norrington frightened her. She knew not if she could control herself. When she ran out on his last visit, her aunt had been extremely vexed with her, telling her with a great many words how grateful she should be to him for offering for her. Even her father, in his brusque, dear ways had chastised her mildly for her abruptness. Being a businessman he clearly only saw the practical aspects of the marriage of his daughter and the advancement of his affairs by the union of their families.

She had cried even more, telling her aunt that Lieutenant Norrington didn't love her. Auntie Helen had only waved that away, saying that no young lady should make a so ridiculous demand of her future husband. Love was one thing, but a ring on her finger and enough needle money to buy all the pretty dresses she wanted that was what counted according to auntie. Comfortable was the word she used most often to describe Jennifer's future life, and Jennifer had suspicion that auntie herself longed for such a life. She would not listen at all to Jennifer's pleas to stay at home, only sent the maid up to help her dress.

Usually Jennifer would chat to her maid, but tonight she was silent while her corset was tightened and her hair done up. Her dress was quite new, and at any other time she would have been delighted to wear it. But not tonight. Not when she still cried for the lost dream of that sunny house filled with love. When she gazed at herself in the mirror she felt miserable and listless. The assembly could bring nothing to lighten her heart, she was convinced.

James Norrington had no idea where to start. He was quite determined to court his bride to be as she deserved, but freely admitted to himself that he had no clue as to how to please her. Even so, he was determined to try. Perhaps she would mistake his good intentions for the warmer feelings he did not have.

He arrived a little late to the assembly and stepped right into the arms of his grandmother. She was a commanding sight in purple silk and a lace cap, and the sour frown she always had when in company.

– Good evening grand mother, he said and bowed over her hand. When he let go, she scrutinized him with her small, black eyes and frowned.

– You look rumpled James, she said. Straighten up.

Unwillingly he did, there was no denying her tone of voice. Or getting a word in, until she was finished.

– Miss Hawk seems pale tonight, is she unwell? If she has a frail health, perhaps you should reconsider her as a bride. Neither her fortune nor her consequence is large enough to make her worth such a waste of time, should she die.

– It was you who told me I should wed her, madam.

– I did, the old lady agreed reluctantly. They may be merchant stock, but she comes with money and enough breeding.

Since Norrington had not laid eyes himself on Miss Hawk yet this evening, he found his grandmothers conversation rather tedious.

– I am sure it is only the bleak weather, grandmother. I have no intention of breaking our engagement.

The sharp eyes shot to his face again.

– So it's a love match? She said a note of alarm in her voice old, sharp voice. It better not be, James, men should not love their wives, it does not bode for a comfortable life.

– No madam, it is not, Norrington answered, knowing full well that was only half of the truth.

– Good, good. Your grandfather never loved me, you know. Nor I him of course, and we had a most agreeable marriage. A most comfortable life. Only look at how those newlyweds carry on – Mr and Mrs Spencer. So charming a lad, and now he only follows in his lady's apron strings. The other day they even danced the minuet together! It is not done, I tell you James, and it should grieve me to see you carry on so unhandsomely.

No man in his right mind would try to say nay to the old dowager when she was in this mood. Norrington did not even try, but stood politely at attention, enduring her rambles as best he could.

– And your parents did not love each other, as you well know, James. Jane hated your fathers guts, and look how well you turned out. She chuckled in evil mirth.

– Such a good move to throw them together. Such a beautiful couple as well. The Caribbean craves a strong constitution and one strong enough to quarrel as much as your mother, dear James, was exceptionally fit to be the wife of a sailor.

Knowing already where the subject would turn, Norrington sighed inwardly. His grandmother had certain views that neither age nor common sense could make her forgo.

– Are you really sure that the little Hawk girl is fit enough for the journey? She does not seem very sturdy.

– If you would excuse me, grandmother,

He bowed again and then slipped into the crowds.

There was not much space in the crowd and it took him a moment to find Miss Hawk. She was standing with her aunt, staring at the hem of her dress. She seemed more like a sulking child than a bride.

– Good evening, Miss Hawk. May I say how…charming you look tonight?

It might not be true, she was certainly not looking her best, but he was determined to break her out of her silent moods.

– Lieutenant Norrington! she gasped, raising her eyes, both shocked at his appearance and the compliment.

– At your service, madam, he answered, bowing. This chivalrous behaviour did not come easily to him, but when she saw how such small attentions made her eyes shine, the dullness speedily gone, he could not but think that it was worth it.

– Would you care for a stroll on the terrace, it is a most pleasant evening?

It was such a blatant lie, that he feared that her aunt would intervene, but that virtuous lady only nodded and smiled. So Jennifer accepted the arm he was offering her, and with a fluttering she walked away with him.

The darkness outside was anything but pleasant, but at least the rain had stopped and fires blazed in the garden. Norrington sincerely hoped that his chosen bride did not have the sickly constitution anticipated by his grandmother, because then she would surely get a sickness in her lungs. But Jennifer Hawk seemed not to mind.

– I am so grateful to you for taking me away from there, lieutenant Norrington. Since our engagement no one asks me to dance, and….Oh, I shouldn't have said that. I only meant… She silenced with cheeks flaming at this jumbled speech.

– The pleasure is all mine, Miss Hawk, and surely all the young gentlemen must realise that the loss is theirs…

Again compliments! Jennifer did not know where to look, and wondered silently what had happened to change him so. Because surely… She raised her eyes to his, and the tenderness she saw there made her blush again.

– How fares your preparations for the journey, Miss Hawk? Norrington asked, glancing down at her. Quite freely she started to describe it to him, the chests almost filled, her wedding dress which would soon return for a second fitting. All this she described to him, without ever considering that he was interested in such womanly pastimes.

He wasn't, but he stayed silent, a small smile playing at his lips.

Happily prattling on about linens and stitching it took Jennifer some time to realise how little interest he really must have in the subject.

– Surely you do me an unkindness in allowing me to prattle on like this, sir, she then chided him, a worried frown returning to her brow.

– Not at all, Miss Hawk, I found you adorable. She almost gasped. Would you find me terribly forward if I told you to call me James?

Not even in her dreams had she dared to wish for him to tell her so and again she raised her shining eyes to his.

– Perhaps it would only be a little improper…James,

– We are to be married in a few months time; I think there can be no objection.

Silenced again by the greatness of the moment, Jennifer Hawk let him lead her back inside. Norrington was trying not to feel like he was flying false colours; for all that he knew he did. It was such an easy little lie, to pretend he loved her. Perhaps his compliments lacked the lustre of the practised flirt, but her reaction was gratifying enough. His only worry was that his little scheme would become too obvious, that his sudden change of heart would not seem credible. But looking down into her eyes, both compliments and light conversations came easily enough to him.

That walk on the terrace, be the night pleasant or not, did much to change Jennifer Hawk's opinion of lieutenant Norrington. That he was the crown of all male glory, she knew, but now she dared to hope as she had not dared before, that he might love her as she loved him. She dared not tell her aunt so, since this respectable lady had already spoken her opinion on the subject, but she nurtured the thought in her heart, hiding it. Every little glance, every compliment she hid away, savouring them like French sweets. Every day she grew more accustomed to him, talking to him quite freely, Auntie Helen was satisfied but always on her guard to fend of any improper topics. Helen no longer longed to jab Jennifer with her elbows, but at times she marvelled at the transformation of her young niece. She was far from turning into a flirt, but her engaging ways would soon border on the improper. She had a hunch that the girl still harboured dreams of love for the young lieutenant, but since Jennifer had not brought the subject up, she could not advice her. Aunt Helen was still not quite convinced of the lieutenant's love, she knew too much of sailors and their bond to the sea. She did indeed see warm regard in his gaze, but she could not find the passion she knew her niece had wanted. The dark oceans already held his heart, if she knew anything of sailors and their ways. After all, she too had loved a sailor… But she knew better now, knew that a comfortable match was the one best sought. But she did not know how to tell Jennifer that.

Many of the conversations between Norrington and Jennifer Hawk came to be on the subject of their future. He was hard tried to remember all the details of the small lodging he had acquired for them, and she constantly teased him to tell her more stories from the distant seas he sailed. She felt it was her duty to be aware of his work and lifestyle. Of course she wouldn't follow him into battle, that was not a job for a lady but she would stand by him on all other occasions. His tales of the punishments for pirates, the hangings, had made her feel a bit sick, but if that was what it took, she would stand by him then as well. Probably with her eyes closed, but that could hardly matter. She wanted to make him proud, to make him a pleasant home. So dear was he to her, that even tales of hangings could not deter her.

– I hope these stories do not frighten you, Miss Hawk, Norrington said, making Aunt Helen shake her head ever so slightly. I am not used to pretty talk; I'm just a simple sailor.

He smiled at her at an angle he deemed dashing.

– Not just a simple sailor, surely, Ja….lieutenant.

– Believe me, Miss Hawk; I am quite unaccustomed to such fine company as this…

Inwards he cringed. Every word he uttered to her seemed to hold a hidden compliment. A pretty game indeed, and one that seemed to greatly satisfy her, but he felt like a two-faced git. As always she flushed prettily, not noticing his innermost thoughts. But how could she, when it seemed to him that in the short time he had spent courting her, he had turned into the most perfect deceiver. Yet again he wished he could love her. Little did he know the turn his fate would take to acquiesce to his request.


	3. Winning or losing

**Chapter three:**** Winning or loosing**

"**Water shapes its course according to the ground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in relation to the foe he is facing."**

**The art of war, by Sun Tzu**

Another week passed. Jennifer was quite engrossed in the packing of her wedding clothes, and since the season was drawing to an end, a merry whirlwind of parties and assemblies hit London. A route party one night, a ball another. To surprise his bride Norrington had taken some dance lessons to refresh his memory, and now could be seen asking for her hand now and then. He kept those occasions to a minimum, as not to bring upon himself the censure of his grandmother however; since this lady held strong views on betrothed couples standing up together... Jennifer was a graceful dancer, and it warmed his heart to see her eyes light up, when he asked for a dance. It surprised him to find that even if he did this only to please her, he was quite pleased in return, only for seeing her joy.

Asking for a dance at one of the last balls of the season, he did not see any happiness in her eyes though. In stead, her thin hand trembled in his.

– Are you well, my dear Miss Hawk?

She smiled at him, assuring him that nothing was amiss. But when he led her onto the floor for a minuet her movements was not as graceful as usual.

– Think nothing of it…James," she murmured as he led her back to her aunt and chaperone. This last week I have hardly been getting any sleep, what with all the merrymaking and packing my wedding dress. She twinkled up at him.

– It is only a dress, Jennifer; surely it does not take a whole week to pack it? Norrington asked, already guessing her answer, but teasing her nonetheless.

She swatted him lightly with her fan.

– It is no ordinary dress, as well you know James. It is my wedding dress! How can I not pack it with the utmost care, knowing what it represents…

Almost without noticing it he tightened his grasp on her hand.

– I am only saddened that neither my father nor my aunt can be there to witness our union, she said, glancing at him.

– It will be painful to leave them, even if I know my duty. She coughed slightly.

Checking his pace slightly, James turned to look at her. "I assure you that I understand that, my love. But let me assure me that I will consider it _my_ duty to make you happy, now that you choose to leave them here and follow me to the Caribbean."

She did not answer with words, only tightened her light grasp on his elbow and looked at him. Her eyes were shining and in them he saw quiet determination and a steadfast love. He marveled that this sweet young woman was his bride and in silence they returned to her aunt. His back was turned before she started coughing again, and therefore he missed it.

The next morning lieutenant Norrington was about to make his usual morning call when the footman informed him that Miss Hawk unfortunately could not receive him. He sat for fifteen uncomfortable minutes with her aunt, and then took himself off. From the window Jennifer saw him go. She had woken up feverish and with a cough that tore at her sore throat and Aunt Helen had told her to stay in bed. There she had lied, fretting, the rest of the morning, while her Aunt embroidered and sighed. Jennifer knew that James would make his morning call, as he always did, and it made her both frustrated and distressed to miss it. When her Aunt was called away because of his arrival she stole away to the window, so at least she could see his back as he left. It would not do at all to be seen, but apparently she was not as discreet as she thought, or the lieutenant's instincts noticed her gaze. He turned, and recognizing her distant face in the window, he made a smart salute, before continuing on his way.

When Aunt Helen returned Jennifer was still slumped at the window, too feverish to return to her bed, but with a radiant smile still lingering on her face.

But the slight cold, which Aunt Helen had insisted to lieutenant Norrington, would run its course in a few days, did not pass so easily. The fever would not lessen and the cough that lieutenant Norrington had noticed at the ball only grew worse. Everyday Norrington would walk to her home to enquire after her health. He knew he could as well send a servant and that she did not know of his visits; but he kept going anyway.

While he tying his cravat, on his fiancées ninth day of sickness, his manservant suddenly entered, bowing to his master.

– Lady Norrington is here to see you, sir. I showed her to your study.

Norrington swallowed his initial reaction (something along the lines of "why didn't you show that old harpy the door") and told himself sternly that his grandmother owed his respect. Even if she was a harpy, she was still a woman of the world. He ought to be glad of her advice in this marriage game he did not understand.

Yet, he still felt a pang of apprehension when he finished tying his cravat and left the room. She had already chosen for him, what more could she want?

– Grandmother, delighted to see you, he said, schooling his face to naval stillness.

She turned towards him and frowned, putting out her hand to be kissed.

– A few more weeks in London, James, and you would almost pass for a true gentleman, his loving relation told him. I have something most important to tell you.

She paused, for bigger impact or a feeling of self importance, he did not know. Straightening his back he fastened his eye on the painting behind her.

Lady Norrington puffed her cheeks out and stared at him, obviously annoyed by his lack of reaction.

– I have decided that you must not marry that Hawk girl after all, James," she said.

This ruffled him and his eyes slid to her black hard ones. Seeing nothing but blackness there he steeled himself and told himself he had known this was coming.

– Why is that, madam?

She fiddled a little with her reticule and looked away.

– I hear she has become ill. It will not do for you to waste your time on her if she can't even stay healthy in England. I must find you another suitable wife.

He returned his eyes to the painting and took a deep breath.

– I do not intend to go back on my word. Miss Hawk will be my wife."

He could feel her eyes snap to him, and imagined her hands forming claws in her lap. He clasped his own behind his back.

– James, I have ruled this family for longer than you have lived. You will do as I please and wed whoever I chose for you.

– No grandmother. Miss Hawk is my bride."

He could feel her hard stare, ice cold and absolutely determined. For a moment there was silence in the little parlor. Then she rose.

– I see you have made up your mind. I give the silly chit a week more. Perhaps then you will see that I only want what is best for you…

Without further ado she rose, gave him a last look down her nose and left.

The encounter left him restless and oddly anxious for Jennifer. He was not a man for worry; he was made for quick actions and firm beliefs, yet he could not convince himself that all was going to be well. The vein of stone and determination that his superiors appreciated and that made men follow him had no obvious use in times of sickness. Himself a man made of sturdy stuff, Norrington could not decide if he should fear for her life. The last time he had seen her, her paleness had been obvious even from afar.

At this very moment, standing in his empty little parlor, gazing at the plain and quite boring painting on the wall, he realized what had happened. He might not feel the burning flames of passion that his friends and comrades seemed to describe when boasting about loves and conquests. He felt something that for him was even greater and more reassuring. Jennifer Hawk represented his future happiness. He had grown fond of her, had tied himself so tightly to the picture of her in his mind, that he could not envision a life without her. In his every plan, every action he had taken the last weeks, she had been foremost in his mind. Her pleasure and comfort had been his only agenda. And he realized that, should she die, he would loose that. Lose the warm feeling in his gut when she smiled. Lose the delight he felt in delighting her. Be without her shining eyes and engaging ways.

The sudden insight was staggering. To a man such as he, truly that must be love?

And he decided, that since he had chosen her to be his; his to defend and cherish, he should do just that.

The first letter arrived to Jennifer the very same afternoon. In her feverish state, she hardly noticed when her aunt came in and sat down at her bedside. Her world was made of fog and hot, scorching pain.

– Jennifer, my dear, her aunt chirped. The lieutenant sent a letter…

Here the good woman silenced, not knowing what decorum and commons sense really advised her to do. But at that pause, her nieces hand took a vice like grip on her hand holding the letter.

– Read it, she said, her dimmed eyes fastened on the letter in desperation.

Aunt Helen decided that this perhaps was a good remedy and opened it. It had been delivered by the man himself, who had told Helen to read it to her charge. Helen guessed that this was his way to make sure she knew nothing improper happened on her watch, and she was thankful for the gesture. As she read the fairly short communication, she noted to herself, that for a sailor, who proclaimed himself to be no poet, he did not do very badly.

The letter was rather short, but sweet, filled with hopes for her recovery, and tidbits from his day. The tale of his boot maker's silly mistakes, and the military parade he would be attending in the morning. The things a caring husband would tell his wife at dinner.

Every day the letters continued to arrive, as she grew stronger, Jennifer were allowed to read them herself. They left her smiling and happy and every day the thought of the waiting missive made her wait restlessly until it arrived. She felt so close to him, despite not having seen him in person for several weeks.

But slowly, the letters started to change. More details of his departure slipped in. Tons of ballast, lengths of rope, visits to sail makers and timber men. As her health improved, Jennifer realized that the date of his departure grew closer.

Within a fortnight she was proclaimed to be well again, and in just a few short days of stolen moments and whispered promises, he was leaving.

The pier was open to all the winds of the sea, and cold snow was flung in her face every second. Her father and she had been given a tour of the ship, where the young lieutenant had described it's every feature with pride and delight. She had tried to smile at his enthusiasm, and truly she was glad… She only wished she could travel with him this instant, and that they needn't be parted.

A small crowd was standing by, watching the ship soon to depart for the new world and Jamaica. Redcoats were all over the place, making last minute preparations. James was to sail this very day and she was to follow a few weeks later, before the ice came. Their wedding was set to the last of february, when he had promised that the flowers of Port Royal was just budding. But he was forced to travel now, his work calling for him. Jennifer felt a sudden sadness of her inability to make him stay, but quickly smotherd the sensation. She could not come between a navalofficer and his calling, she knew that. But still it pained her, more than she thought possible to just stand here and watch the ship and the last preparations that soon would make it ready to take him away from her.

Her father stood close by and had already said his goodbyes to the lieutenant, the next time the would meet they would be father and son in law. The family's economy did not make it possible for her papa to join her on the trip, but they all hoped that in a few years his shippin business would make enough money to afford another trip to come and see them. Their marriage would be celebrated at her arrival in Port Royal, and she longed for that day to be tomorrow instead of the inconcivable amount of time that it was.

James Norrington had at first harboured thoughts much the same, but as the smells and sounds of the harbour had made themselves obvious to his nose and ears, the less had he thought of the fiancée he was leaving. It was with absent thoughts he looked back into her eyes, hardly noticing her in front of him. He could hear the waves crashing against the small boats that were to take them out to the Fearless.

– James, she said with tears brimming in her eyes and he snapped back to the present.

– What, my dear? he answered and with some difficulty turned his thoughts back to her.

– Have a good voyage, she sniffed a little. I trust God to bring you to your destination safely.

As she'd said this she could not make herself talk again, the heavy weigth in her stommach hindering her.

– I'm sure he will, my love, was the only answer she got as his eyes strayed again from her to the awaiting boats. Forcing himself to look sincere he looke deeply into her wet eyes and silently kissed her hand. With her father so close he could not make himself show more emotions than that. With his ship so close, the thought hardly grazed his consciousness.

She blinked miserably and a lone tear fell to softly touch her cheek. James started to walk against the boats, but as he neared them his heart got the better of him.

"_Now, James, don't be a scoundrel and leave your lady standing crying on a cold harbour." _

But her father…

Hang Lord Hawk. And decorum. So he did a turn and hurried back to her, enveloping her in his arms and kissing her, quite fervently.

Jennifer was shocked at first and very aware of the spectators. But as James lips left hers she could not avert her face from his dominating glance.

– We will meet soon again.. he said, his eyes piercing into her heart and soul.

– Remember that I love you. And he was gone again.

She stared long after the Fearless as she moved away onto open sea, but no more tears fell from her eyes. Instead a small smile tugged at her lips, a hopeful, content smile. I'm going to be married, the smile signalled to the world. All my dreams are coming true. I love a man worthy of my heart.


End file.
